What I Know to Be True…Father’s Day Edition
My father, Ken Keagy: a stoic man, a self-proclaimed realist, an animal lover. He is not the sentimental, “it’ll all be okay” kind of guy. He is a tell-it-like-it-is, rational, sometimes so honest that it hurts kind of guy. He can fix just about anything. He loves his motorcycle. He is talkative, loves the Penguins, often gets brain freezes from eating his ice cream too fast, and loves Rocky movies. He swears the 80s are the best decade and claims that Smart Phones are pretty stupid (even though he now has one).
As a teenager, I cried many times over my dad’s “the truth hurts” mentality. He never sugarcoated anything. As an adult, however, I now know what a valuable gift my father gave me through all of the years. His honesty, his push for me to face the truth no matter how harsh, has made me the person I am today. I have learned so much from my dad.
One of our favorite stories about my dad comes from when I was in Kindergarten. Distraught because my “friends” were mad at me, I came home crying. While my mom coddled me and told me it would be fine, my dad simply said, “Well, you don’t have any friends. No one does, not really.” At five-years-old, this truth was just too much to handle. By junior high, though, I got what my dad was saying. Your only best friend truly is yourself. No one in life will have your back at every second or always be looking out for you. You have to learn to be independent, be confident in who you are, and learn to live for yourself to an extent. Sure, we have friends . . .but we have to learn to be our own best friends if we want to live a truly fulfilled life.
Second, I learned how to write. In elementary school, I can remember my dad sitting down with me and reviewing my essays. True to his “realist” nature, he would tell me when my essay was terrible. He would tell me when I was using too many “empty” words or writing about a boring topic. Some parents would see this as too harsh, but I am now so thankful that he told me the truth. By telling me when my essay sucked and helping me fix it, he taught me to grow as a writer. I don’t think I would have ever published my first novel if I hadn’t learned these skills.
My dad also taught me to be humble. He always loved the movie Good Will Hunting because of the lesson it taught. He would always tell me that no matter how hard I work, there will always be someone out there who is smarter or better or faster than me at whatever it is I’m pursuing . . .that someone maybe just didn’t have the same opportunities as me. This has always stuck with me and reminded me that I should never “look down” on anyone or think I’m the best. Now, my dad’s not a classic literature kind of guy, but his advice essentially matches that from The Great Gatsby: “In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since.”Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,” he told me, “just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.”
Most importantly, my dad taught me that you don’t have to have a trust fund to be giving. You don’t have to give millions to help out. I can remember countless times that my dad spent his weekend in the garage to help a friend or someone in need fix a car. He basically only charged for parts. I can remember being in the grocery store when an elderly lady was crying because she couldn’t afford her food. My dad pulled out what was left in his wallet to help cover what she was missing . . .which was only $7. I asked why my dad hadn’t given her more when he said that was all he had. I realized that $7 meant more than a million in this situation, as did the woman who received it. I’ve always remembered that I can help others, no matter what my financial status is.
My dad’s realism and honesty has helped shape me into the person I am. I learned to value education and family above everything. I learned that to live a happy life, you have to work hard and earn it. I learned to be a planner, to rationalize every decision, and to look both ways before crossing the street. I learned that sometimes life is harsh, but you just have to deal with it. I learned that it’s better to save money now than to need it and not have it later. I learned that some of us will just never be mechanically inclined and, in that case, make sure you live within driving distance of your father. I learned that even though Bull Terriers are a handful, they are worth it.
I learned that life is tough and you don’t really have any friends sometimes . . .but in those times, you can always count on your father to pull you through (after he reminds you that life is harsh and you don’t always have friends).
Thanks dad, for all you have taught me. (Mom, I hope you show this to him since he refuses to read blogs).
